No Reply
by Miss Inadequate
Summary: [SatAM] Isn't it funny, how with one simple action or lack of, an entire raid can be thrown off? How even with risking the same thing every time, you can never get used to being close to death...


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_Author's Note: _

If I could write an action story, it'd go something like this. It wouldn't be full of bullets or tension. There wouldn't be constant bombs flying or blood splattering all about. It'd be a story with morals. A story with something that made it a little different than the other stories in the genre because I can't write the amazing way everyone else does. It's not in my skill set so instead, I came up with this humble piece. Please review, if you'd be kind enough to take the time.

_Disclaimer:_

The usual. Not a character is mine.

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An avenue; tan sidewalks illuminated under a golden sunset. People walk to and fro. It's six 'o clock and working adults are eager to return home. The buildings that line the streets are lit up in for the evening crowd; every lantern shining; the signs on the buildings shouting their purpose to passers-by. There's music outside a café. Footsteps on the pavement; walking, walking…

The sky is pink; a beautiful cerise. The white buildings start to fade under the sun but their lights act as intervention. '_You can turn off the sun, but I'm still gonna shine!' _they shout the words along the row; each and everyone echoing.

_You can turn off the sun, but I'm still gonna shine!_ Louder. _You can turn off the sun, but I'm still gonna shine! I'm not afraid of a sunset. I'm not afraid of darkness. I have light. I have life. You can fade sun, but I'll still be lit up…I'll still be lit up. _

There's one couple walking in particular, a rather striking pair. They don't seem to care that eyes slide on and off them. They're too caught in themselves. He's holding her hand rather tightly; the soft caress of the fabric of his glove brushing against her fur. Their feet touch the pavement in unison. Their faces aren't looking ahead but rather at the other. His eyes are caught on hers; his eyes are lit up by the aid of a streetlight. Still shining…

There's a smile on his face, a dazed look in complete. Those emerald orbs she's staring into; they say so much more than any words. They stop at the intersection, step off the center of the sidewalk to the farther edge, her arms wrapped around him; his arms wrapped around her. She can feel her heart racing; her face heating up. She's a little self-conscious but that doesn't seem to matter. It doesn't seem to because it doesn't in general. His face leans in closer, hers follows. His tan muzzle brushes against her cheek. Everything seems to melt; nothing seems to matter. Closer, closer…

Everything's at a standstill, everything's frozen. The passers-by disappear. All she can hear are their hearts beating together, his and hers. She can feel him up against her; can feel the warmth of their foreheads pressed together; the cold, wetness of his nose; the heat of his embrace. Her eyelids shut, their lips are millimeters apart.

Closer…

_Sonic…_

Just a little closer…

_Sonic…?_

One last nudge forward…

_Sonic?_

She feels his arms around her vanish. There's a harsh breeze that replaces that warmth. She opens her eyes to find nothing. Her world falls apart.

_You can turn off the sun but I'm still gonna shine…_

The avenue's gray. The skies are black. The buildings are destroyed and abandoned. The color's been stripped. There are no people; there's nothing. It's deserted. The life is gone. The sidewalks are worn out but her boots slowly ease on them. One step at a time…

Silence follows the place like death. Leaning against a dismal building, she fumbles with a small radio-like instrument, turning the knob furiously. "Sonic?" She whispered the name every so often, forgetting the formalities of aliases, but all she hears on the other side is static. "Sonic?" Her eyes trail on and off the communicator; they look up every so often.

'_SWATbots, 6 'o clock...' _ She sees a troop in the distance, headed towards her and alert, her feet start the trip for her, finding an alley. There she stays, pinned up against a wall; silent like the rest of the world. It had been such an easy mission in general. All she needed were a few files and some scrap material; scrap metal. The files were easily obtained. With the help of her comrade, Sonic the Hedgehog, the duo had quickly snuck into one of the main corridors, gotten access to one of the systems, and she had used her own computer, Nicole (a remarkable invention; small, compact, with access to almost every database imaginable), to download and copy most of the files on there. Getting out, however, was not as easy as getting in.

They had made it out of the main building; that grotesque establishment that housed such horrors as the Roboticizer; a machine that could turn flesh to metal in seconds, especially with its new modifications. Unfortunately, her list of worries didn't stop there. Worker bots surrounded the city like pawns on a chess board. Worthless pawns considered little more than disposal; worthless pawns that had almost all once been people with families; people with lives. She could imagine the faces under that metal; plain citizens and maybe under one, her father.

Granted, she had no clue as to what happened to him. To be frank, sometimes she forgot about his existence altogether. She presumed he was dead but the fact she didn't know tugged at her more. In the circumstance of a death, she could move on but this wouldn't allow her—no, not with the slim possibility he could be alive somewhere. She could only imagine the look on her father; the grim sweep of depression that would overtake him seeing his kingdom like this; seeing his daughter daring to walk the streets of Robotropolis, fearing for her life. One wrong step and it was over. Inevitable capture and death.

However, she originally wasn't alone. The mission had comprised of four members: her, Sonic, Bunnie Rabbot, and Rotor. Bunnie and Rotor had the easier part of this two part mission; scrap collecting. They'd collect what he (Rotor) needed to make some more weaponry and items of the like. She and Sonic, on the other hand, needed to get access to one of the computers, grab the files she needed so she'd know the full, technical detail on any modifications made to the Roboticizer, make it out of the main building, run past any troops in the town, and finally, meet at the junk pile with the other two—their rendezvous point. Things had been going smoothly for them; the files, obtained; the main building fled.

She could recall the breeze in her hair; her ponytail fluttering madly. Her arms wrapped around his neck; her being carried in his arms, bridal style. The feeling of safety there; the feeling of security; realizing that today, she wasn't going to die. Their half of the mission had been a success.

Looks deceived…

Somehow through it, Sonic was able to trigger an alarm through his elaborate running (and boasting). She couldn't remember the place exactly but before she knew it, there were hover crafts, SWATbots and gods know what else on their tail. There was no fleeing so Sonic did the only sensible thing he could think of. He dropped her promptly and led them away. For a while, she remained hidden in an alleyway; in a garbage disposal case. An eternity of silence seemed to pass in that dark little canister as she held her nose, occasionally tipping the lid to see if anyone (or anything) was in the area. Empty.

She slid herself out, brushed off the garbage that was on her and started down the steep street, heading towards the rendezvous point. She got in contact with Bunnie and Rotor easy. The pair was ready to go, just waiting. She reassured them, stated lightly Sonic was taking care of a few troops (she had to sound confident at this point. After the last couple failures, they needed an easy mission like this to heighten spirits) and they would be there shortly. If he didn't show up, she concluded, she'd return with an urgent mission.

She had spent the last twenty minutes waiting quietly, hiding at the sight of any troops, and somehow successfully making it past. She was getting close, but close didn't seem to brush off the fact she couldn't reach him. She's still trying, setting it back to his frequency. "Acorn to Hedgehog…"

Nothing.

Her heart continues to beat faster as she looks back. She doesn't know where he is or what he's doing, but for some stupid reason she still has hope he was alright. He could hold his own in a city like this. He had to be able to. Stupid however…

Stupid was HIS decision to drop her off and leave her. Stupid was HIS decision to somehow turn off or LOSE his communicator. Did he KNOW what could happen if that got into the wrong hands? Did he even THINK for a moment that she'd be worried? Did he even think PERIOD? No. He didn't.

Sometimes she was under the impression he was in the business to worry her.

Her eyes trail left to right, blinking every so often. She's waiting for him to run out in the horizon; for that blue streak to come through. Nothing. If he was gone; if he was captured; if he was killed, what would she say? More importantly, what would remain unsaid?

If there was a grave with his name on it, would she set flowers on it? Would she, whenever she visits it, carry a tissue, cry, sob, or would she not be able to look at it period knowing that it was her fault this happened; her faulty planning; her misdirection? It was in some way always her fault.

And what would happen to the Freedom Fighters? Not only would their spirits diminish, but the team would be weakened altogether. He was the strongest thing they had, in the sense of assets. He could run; fight; do it all. Who would carry that torch?

Tails? No. She'd never let him. It didn't matter how eager he was, he wasn't ready nor was she to let another man she quite possibly could love with all her being out into something could slay him. He wasn't even a man, he was a child. A mission would kill any sign of it; destroy his innocence; the innocence she envied herself.

And the end of her circle; she, the end and the beginning point. What would happen to her? The guilt would shadow her forever. Her chance of happiness: gone. It wasn't the things that she said to that True Blue in the end that would've matter; it wasn't the lectures that would slaughter her; the lectures that upstaged every other little feeling she felt for him; or the fact he never listened during them. It was what she never said. It was the fact she never looked into his eyes, take a deep breath, and tell him how much she cared.

It didn't matter how many times they hugged each other as 'friends' or how many times she kissed his cheek as some taunting reward. It wouldn't make up for the fact she never found the courage to say the three words that could come out so easily; never found the 'perfect' opportunity. She never admitted it to herself and now she quite possibly would never have the chance to admit it to him. It wasn't time yet, she'd reason but you can't put a time on love. You can't put an expiration date on it; you can't force a restriction…

The avenue's bleak and lonely. The city's dismal and frightening. It's a polluted wasteland from a twisted nightmare. She's slyly stepping through it, using the aid of Nicole to map her way; to see where exactly she was heading. Whenever there was an alleyway, she'd pin herself against it and try to communicators again.

Please answer…

Nothing would come. For a while, she was sure her eyes were watering. Five minutes. Five minutes and she would tell the others. They'd search further into the city and then go home. So much could happen in five minutes; so much could happen in five seconds.

It only would've taken five seconds for him to call her; it only would've taken five seconds for her to knock on his door a little more; it only would've taken five seconds to her to make eye contact with him and confess what's been pulling at her for years now. Pulling in different ways; pulling but never winning. At the end of the day, the only enemy she had was her own practicality.

All these things run in her head as she continues pacing through the city of shambles in the unusual and rare calm. Calm? No, it didn't seem right that the city was so dead-

_Halt, Freedom Fighter!_

The drone voice strikes her eardrums and she freezes. A troop, approaching; SWATbots, dozens; just marching, moving to the rhythm of an invisible drum. Her head shifts left, right; her mind tries to process; she's searching but for what? There's no where to go; not an alleyway in sight for her to hide in. Not a gap; not a door; no sanctuary. The voice plays again in her mind and somehow it formally strikes her.

They've _seen_ her.

Logic comes into play.

There's too many for her to take on alone; fighting wouldn't even be worth the effort. She'd fall so easily it wasn't worth the bruise. Alternative: hide. She frantically does a second skim of the area; looks desperately for some exit; some building to escape in. Nothing. She isn't close enough for Bunnie and Rotor to see her; she isn't close enough for anything. She's alone.

And finally, her logic surrenders to her last resort: flee.

Run and dodge. Her feet take off as she stumbles past; sliding to the side whenever a SWATbot steps in front of her; leaning down when she's sure there's some blast coming from their guns; pulling herself away when she's sure it's trying to grab her. She's put herself on auto-pilot; she's moving with no concern to where she's going. Her only priority is to get away; just get away.

Faster, faster…

Why couldn't she go any faster? She can feel one on her tail but honestly, there had to be a door somewhere; something somewhere. There's something speeding behind her but she can't look. She can't afford to. Her heart is racing; her eyes are searching; a gap; a door; a fence; a box. There had to be something, had to be _something_…

Just focus forward; just a little farther. She couldn't blow this; just couldn't. The Freedom Fighters couldn't take two great losses in the same day; they couldn't lose both her _and _Sonic. What would they do without his speed? How would they make up for the loss of her brains? Rotor could try to take her place, but he wasn't prepared; no one was prepared. She wasn't prepared.

_You can turn off the sun but I'm still gonna shine. I'm not afraid of a sunset. I'm not afraid of darkness. I have light. I have life. You can fade sun, but I'll still be lit up. I'll still be lit up…_

She spots a gap in the distance; a building she can slip into. She only has to pull her legs a little further; it's so close, she can feel it. There she'll sink down, take a deep breath, wait again…

Always waiting…

And when she was in her hut that night, she'd take another breath, lean back, reflect on all the failures and mistakes she made today, cry if needed, and then live another day. She'd still live.

Someday, when this horrible war was over, she'd walk down the promenade, smile to herself. _I shined. I made it. It's over and it'll never happen again._

Such a statement was a lie, but gods, it made her feel better. Like the warmth of an embrace; the warmth of his cheek against hers; the warmth of the sun shining down or even setting; the security a blanket of summer heat could lay on her; the cloth a jacket could put on her in the winter. To be safe; to relax; to have a day when she wasn't the last point in the circle…

This doesn't change the fact her heart's still beating; that she isn't even looking ahead anymore. Somehow, her boots don't respond when she spots the shadow of something on the ground in front of her and her toes ram into it, causing her to fall forward. It's over; the ground wasn't even rough enough to describe the cruel fate that met her and her companion.

Her head lands right next to it and she suddenly gets a glimpse of what it is. Broken wires; a destroyed wrist communicator. His communicator…

She feels her eyes welling again as she raises her arms, lays her head down and shuts her eyes. Do it and get it over with. I won't say a word.

_You can turn off the sun but I'm still gonna shine…_

She's ready to be picked up, swept away to her doom. She'd cry there; cry for all the people she let down; cry for all the things she never said. This was war. It was inevitable. Her death though; dying like this was despicable. She had done her part, granted, but she couldn't even put up a fight with so many; didn't have the time to alert the others…she had nothing but lost hope.

The real question was would they lay flowers on _her_ gravestone? If her father was alive (and she doubted he was), would he cry? Cry for a little girl he barely knew? Would it crush everyone else as much as Sonic's 'death' crushed her? All the things she never said; all the unheard replies…

Her eyes shut and she's gone.

A flash of light meets her eyes seconds later; she isn't lifted up by force. She's swept away, a pair of arms closing in on her. She's being carried away. Her eyes open and she looks up. A pair of emerald stare back at her and for once, they don't need words. It isn't about what she could've or should've done. It isn't about how stupid he was to have done what he did or what happened to his communicator. They only nod in acknowledgement of each other and her arms secure themselves around his neck. She buries her head after.

It didn't seem real. It didn't seem right but for some reason, hope had its way of compensating her for all the times. Her luck isn't natural today, but for that, she's thankful. It was about time…

Maybe it would lead to a giant string of victories for them but compared to what the relief she was feeling now, they'd mean nothing. She pulls her head up one last time, pieces together the remains of a smile and aims her lips towards his ear. "Thank you."

The words come out as a whisper, but it doesn't matter what she said. He says nothing back. His reply is said in everything else.

That night, she'd sink into her bed, stare up at the ceiling for awhile, and grip her covers; safe and warm. She wouldn't be alone.


End file.
